Night Shift
by mrs.equality
Summary: Something about this boy had piqued Rodney's interest.
1. Chapter 1

**Night Shift**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. Wrote this for fun, I'm not making any money out of it.

**Pairing: **John Sheppard / Rodney McKay (later chapters)

**Rating:** uhm, hard to say. First chapter is K, don't know how the story will develop in later chapters

**Author's note:**

I'm so nervous! This is my first fanfic ever, so please be nice and tell me what you think about it! Oh, by the way, I want to apologize if there are any mistakes, my English isn't perfect. It's only the first chapter yet, but I'm planning on continuing this. Just wanted to upload what I wrote today and see if anybody out there likes it =)

Important: **There will be no inappropriate relationship between an adult and a minor.**

x - x - x

Night shift at the ER. Great. It's not like he's already been here for 36 hours. It's not like he's tired as hell. It's not like there is no coffee to help him stand upright, let alone dealing with patients. Oh, right, then there were the patients. Mrs. Steiner, who caught a cold and insisted it had to be something severer, a homeless guy, who wouldn't stop hitting on the annoyed nurses to get some new syringes and a few pills of painkiller, and an daft looking guy, who broke his leg while skating down a rail at the local train station.

Something told Dr. McKay that this night was just another in a row of uneventful nights he spent at the ER. Not that he liked people getting hurt or dying, but he didn't become a medical doctor to prescribe remedies for colds and to struggle with junkies.

The doors of the station slid open and a boy around the age of 17 slowly walked in. He had a sad look on his face and there was something about his eyes Rodney couldn't quite put his finger on. A nurse made her way over to where the young man prowled and asked him something. The boy gave a short nod and McKay noticed his ridiculous amount of black hair on his scalp, which seemed to defy gravity in every possible way.

The nurse handed him a clipboard and took a beeline back to the nurse's station, where the bummer seemed to get a little too obstrusive to her taste. Rodney focused back to the boy right on time to see him flinch and change the hand he was holding the clipboard with. He watched him take a seat and stare at the form he had to fill in. Five minutes passed and McKay wondered whether he would start writing soon or just continue staring a hole into the paper. After another two minutes of perfect stillness the boy moved his left arm to take a pen.

His movements on the paper were slow and edgy. He made the impression of a first-grader at his first attempts to write the word 'cat'. It was obvious that he usually wrote with his right hand. McKay wondered what that circuitousness was all about.

And then he wondered why he wondered so much. Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay was no man who cared why people acted like they did or how people felt. He was a man of facts and knowledge and, of course, skills. But something about this boy had piqued his interest. The hint of... maybe _fear_... in his hazel eyes, the mysterious way he behaved...

McKay put away his thoughts and without further ado made his way over to the chairs in the entrance area. He let himself fall into the seat next to the boy. The teenager slowly turned his head and looked at Rodney, eyes wide open while he tried to hide his right arm.

He glanced at the clipboard in his lap and saw that the boy didn't get beyond filling in his first name. _John_, as far as Rodney could decipher the scribble on the paper. He sighed and decided to probe the cause of John's strange behaviour. "Hi, my name is Dr. McKay, can I help you?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Hi, my name is Dr. McKay, can I help you?"

x - x - x

The boy looked back down at the clipboard. Then his eyes wandered over to the electric sliding doors and back to Rodney. He looked like he was about to take flight. And before Rodney could say another word, he did.

He sprang to his feet and sprinted over to the doors. But before he stepped through, he took a look back to the chair occupied with Dr. McKay, surprise and confusion written across his face. The last thing he saw before the doors closed and John disappeared into the night was an icon on the back of his leather jacket. It was the letter "V" turned upside down with a small circle right above it.

The night nurse came over with a quizzical expression on her face. "What did you do, Dr. McKay? I told you, you can't go around and be grumpy and scare off people who need our help. What if he has some sort of contagious disease or serious injury which goes untreated now?" She shook her head, turned around and continued to mutter under her breath while walking back to the counter to put away the clipboard the boy had left behind on his chair.

McKay didn't even try to argue about these false accusations like he would have done every other day. He just sat there a few more minutes, lost in thought. The boy had fled like he was running away from something. Like he was running away from _him_.

The sound of the doors opening awoke him from his inner considerations. He looked up to see Dr. Kavanagh enter the ER. A glance on his watch told him that his shift had already ended ten minutes ago. "Finally! I can't wait to get home to my bed. What took you so long Kavanagh?" He glared at the man with a pony-tail some women would die for.

"Come on McKay, ten minutes won't kill you."

"And next time it will be 15 minutes, then 30 minutes and eventually you won't show up at all?"

Kavanagh rolled his eyes. He had barely slept the last twelve hours and wasn't really excited about the fact that he had to take over the early shift for Dr. Zelenka, who called in sick yesterday. He knew that he wasn't exactly everybody's favourite, but neither was McKay. Without commenting on Rodney's taunt he went over to the nurse to receive patient charts.

McKay walked into the locker room and changed into his casual clothes. On his way out of the ER he gave the nurse a short nod and Dr. Kavanagh another icy stare, then he continued his way to the exit. His eyes ran over the PVC floor coating when he noticed something. There were stains on the floor, forming a line from the seating area to the door, as if something had leaked and left his trail on the floor.

He approached the stains to take a closer look. When he bent down to take a closer look at them he saw that they were of a dark red color. _Blood_. But whose..._ The boy, John!_ Maybe that was the reason he had hidden his arm. But when he was hurt and bleeding, why wouldn't he let anybody treat him but run out like that?

He decided his bed could wait and walked over to the telephone on the counter. Maybe the boy went to another hospital and he would get some answers there.


	3. Chapter 3

Maybe the boy went to another hospital and he would get some answers there.

x - x - x

Rodney hung up and sighed. That had been the fifth hospital he had called, but nobody had seen a young man with black tousled hair and pointy ears. He looked at his watch. It was 6:30 a.m., one and a half hours past his shift had ended. He decided to stop his search and go home.

The doors of the ER slid open as he approached ant let in the cool morning air. Rodney shivered wrapped his arms around his torso to hold the cold off reaching his skin. It was a summer day, but at this early hour even summer days felt like deep winter. He made his way over to his silver Toyota, which he called "Daedalus" in private, only to discover that somebody had pierced his tires with a knife. Rodney cursed. Why again did he work in the worst neighborhood of the city? Frustrated he kicked the wheel rim and started his walk home.

After ten minutes of the approximately 45 minutes he had to walk to his flat, he heard a noise, like a whimper. He looked to his left, where he located the noise. There, on a decrepit halfpipe he saw somebody curled up in a ball, lying on his side. As he stepped closer he saw that it really was the boy, John.

He rushed over to the figure and gently touched John's shoulder. He jerked his head up and hazel eyes connected with icy blue ones. Rodney could see pain and fear in them.

John whispered something but Rodney couldn't hear a word he said. He leaned forward until his ear almost touched John's mouth.

"No hospital... please." John mumbled and passed out.

Rodney frowned at John's words. Why did this boy have such a reluctance to proper help? He remembered why he had piqued his interest in the first place and moved closer to take a look at John's right arm. Carefully he took his hand and started to lift the sleeve of the black leather jacket. On John's skin were traces of dried and fresh blood. As Rodney had pulled the sleeve halfway up John's forearm he saw the cause of the bleeding.

An open fracture exposed the bone to the cold air. Rodney gasped. This wound must have been older than a day and was already infected. He cursed a second time this day and flipped his phone open to dial. After two times ringing Ronon picked up the phone.

Ronon Dex was a male nurse working in one of the other hospitals in town but he rather looked like a foreign warrior. He was the most loyal person Rodney knew, so he was the right person to call in this situation.

"Dex." He almost barked.

"Hey Ronon, buddy, it's Rodney."

"What did you do this time?"

"What? I didn't do anything. I've got a favor to ask of you."

"Shoot."

"Could you _borrow _some implements needed to treat an open fracture and meet me at the old skater park near my hospital as soon as possible?"

"You're lucky I like you and don't have to work right now. I'll be there in 15." He hung up.

Rodney sighed relieved. He looked down at John at his feet. "What am I gonna do with you?" He asked concerned into the cool morning.


	4. Chapter 4

"What am I gonna do with you?" He asked concerned into the cool morning.

x - x - x

Ronon arrived 10 minutes later instead of 15. His black pickup truck sped down the narrow street and came to a halt with tires squealing. Rodney rolled his eyes. Even at 7:00 a.m. without anybody around to impress the caveman had to act like Vin Diesel on steroids.

Ronon opened the driver's door and left the car. After retrieving a bag from the trunk he made his way over to where McKay stood, the boy lying at his feet. He greeted Rodney with a short nod. "Who's that?" He drawled as he saw John, curled up under Rodney's jacket the man had generously spread over him despite his own goosebumps.

"All I know about him is his first name. John. He showed up at the ER last night but fled when I went to talk to him. And _no,_ I didn't scare him away or anything." He added when he saw Ronon raising one eyebrow. "Called the other hospitals to see if he went there later, but he obviously didn't. I don't know what happened to him, I only know that his arm isn't supposed to look like that." He said and raised John's sleeve.

Ronon scooted closer and took a look at the wound, rather intrigued than disgusted. "Looks like he walked around with that for quite a while. Must have hurt like hell. You think that's why he has passed out?" He asked while wrapping John in an emergency blanket he got from his bag. Rodney touched John's forehead with the back of his hand. "That or the fever made him collapse. Anyway, we better get him out of the cold."

Ronon grunted in approval and lifted the limp body from the ground, one arm behind his shoulders and one in the hollows of his knees. He carried the boy over to his car and situated him in the passenger's seat. Then he sat down behind the wheel.

"Oh, no, does that mean I still have to walk all the way home?" Rodney said when he realized that there was no seat left for him. "What's wrong with your car?"

"Some punks had the _brilliant_ idea to deflate my tires. Again."

Ronon snickered and McKay shot him a piercing glance. "Sounds like the sort of punk I have been in my younger years. Don't take it personally, they were just fooling around."

"Well, I will tell my feet to not take it personally when they start aching and will be plastered with blisters."

"Stop whining, the exercise will be good for you. You look like you gained weight since I last saw you." Before Rodney had the chance to come up with a snippy comment he shut the driver's door and drove away towards Rodney's flat.

"Son of a... You think you're funny? Haha. Not everybody on this planet was born with perfect abs and a metabolism like yours." He kept on muttering and cursing to himself the whole way home.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: First of all, thanks to everybody who reads this fic and/or added it to story alert! =)

And second, I know this story is making slow progress and I apologize. School started again and that means a lot of work for me, but I'll try to update more often. Or at least every week. (Maybe I should start to write in boring classes to kill time.) I hope this chapter is a little bit more satisfying for you. And third, sometimes I have the feeling the words I use aren't the best ones. If you read something that bothers you, please feel free to tell me and I will change it. Seriously, don't hold back, it might be an opportunity to improve my English. =)

x - x - x

When he finally reached his address Ronon already leaned against his parked car, John securely in his arms. As Rodney approached he straightened up and strolled over to meet him at the door. The weight of John's unconscious body didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

"What took you so long? My grandma would have been faster than you and she..."

"... is limping, yeah yeah, stop it already. You're lucky I made it here alive." He breathed heavily and theatrically put his hands on his knees like he just came back from running 5000 metres. Ronon shot him an annoyed glance and gestured for him to open the door.

McKay started to search his pockets for his keys, only to find them empty. He groaned. "I must have left my keys in the car. Maybe you could drive back and..."

"Got a better idea." Ronon cut him off. He motioned for Rodney to take over the unconscious boy. Rodney opened his arms and Ronon gave John over. Rodney stumbled under the weight. The boy may have looked haggard and bony but he wasn't exactly a lightweight either.

Once he had freed his hands Ronon started to rummage through the big pockets of his pant. Rodney secretly wondered what he had in there because they looked pretty crammed. He only knew of two small items Ronon always had within reach. A powerbar (or alternatively a bar of chocolate) to save Rodney from hypoglycemic shock and an EpiPen if some jerk tried to kill Rodney with citrus-poisoned food (which in Rodney's eyes happened way to often). Oh, make that three things, he forgot about the knife he always had with him.

He eventually seemed to have found what he was looking for and pulled out a lock pick set. Rodney's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? What if you break the lock and I will have to buy a new one to replace it? Or even better: What if the neighbors see us and call the police? I mean, look at us! You are picking a lock and look like some savage from godknowswhere and I'm standing here, a half dead kid in my arms!"

But Ronon had already begun to open the door. A quiet clicking noise told them that he had succeeded. "Huh. That was fast." Rodney said in what he never would admit to be awe. "Where did you learn that?"

"Told you I was one of those punks back in the day."

"What, those rascals have the ability to invade my home?"

"Don't know about them, but I do." Ronon smirked. Rodney made a mental note to buy an alarm system as soon as possible.

He handed John back to Ronon who carried him upstairs to the third floor where McKay had rented a nice and cozy flat. At least it had been nice and cozy when Dr. Jennifer Keller used to live there with him. But since she was gone and had taken all decorative items with her it rather looked like a mixture of a dormatory (with all the clothes lying around and the kitchen sink overflowing with dirty dishes) and the lab of a mad professor of mathematics (with blackboards and papers full of numbers occupying the whole living room).

Numbers and complicated equations had always been Rodney's passion, since he was a teenager. Maybe that was the reason he hadn't been the most popular kid in high school. "Where can put him?" Ronon's voice broke his train of thoughts. Well, he didn't really think about what to do with John after they got him to Rodney's apartment. It was obvious he needed medical attention and he was quite sure his living room was way too unsterile for the surgery to treat the broken arm. Ronon seemed to have the same thoughts because a moment later he said: "Call her already."

Her. That would be Dr. Keller. There was no bad blood between them after their break-up, but they weren't exactly friends either. McKay thought about whether to call her or not. She was a plastic surgeon who had her practice in one of the richer districts of the city. She had the operating room they needed right now. With a sigh he flipped his phone open and dialed her number. "This boy better be thankful for what I'm doing to help him." He said in a bitter tone.

Jennifer didn't sound thrilled at the idea of performing surgery on a total stranger who had an odd aversion to hospitals but she agreed to let Rodney and Ronon use her practice to help this boy. After a short drive (Rodney took the bus instead of walking again, even if he hated being cooped up with a lot of far too smelly people he didn't even know) they all arrived at their destination.

x - x - x

The surgery went pretty uneventful and they were able to make sure John wouldn't have to deal with any late sequela of this fracture. But Rodney was still worried about the infection. He talked Jennifer into prescribing antibiotics which hopefully would cure the blazing fever John still had.

"What are you gonna do with him now?" Jennifer asked.

"Take him home and hope he won't die on me. I would prefer not to explain to anybody why there is a dead teenager on my sofa."

"What about his parents?"

"What about them? I don't know his last name, I don't even know if he has parents."

"But if he does, don't you think they'd like to know what's happening with their son? You should call Lorne."

"Lorne is a policeman, he would ask questions I can't answer. I don't know why this boy refuses to go to a decent hospital, but I have a feeling that he somehow wouldn't be too keen on a policeman checking out his personal data. Maybe he is some sort of wanted criminal and if I turn him in his gang will be after me!" Rodney emphasized his words by making wild gestures with his hands.

"You know Evan wouldn't tell anybody if you asked him not to. Maybe he will be able to find out who this boy is."

At this point Ronon jumped in. "She's right, we should bring the kid back to your apartment and ask Lorne to come by."

"Fine. But if I get killed by gangsters in the course of a vendetta, you two are not invited to my funeral."

"I can live with that." Ronon grinned and lifted John up from the gurney he had been lying on.

x - x - x

Back at the flat they placed the still anesthetized John on the couch. Despite his lean figure the seat seemed to be slightly too narrow for his body because his arm with the cast on constantly slipped to the side and hit the floor.

"Maybe we should lay him down in my bed." Rodney mumbled thoughtful.

Rodney shot him a bewildered look.

"What?"

"And where do you plan to sleep then?"

"I don't have a broken arm, I can sleep here."

Ronon raised an eyebrow at that. "What about your sensitive back?"

"It's gonna rebel against the bad cushioning, but I will survive."

Ronon shrugged and together they brought John into Rodney's bedroom. After putting him under the covers there was a moment of silence between the two of them.

"Why are you doing this?" Ronon asked quietly.

McKay warily rubbed at this eyes with one hand. "I don't know. I really don't. He needed help and I had this strange urge to rescue him. I think I saw something there in his eyes."

Ronon nodded as if he could understand. But how could he? Rodney himself didn't even understand the situation.

"I'll call Evan." Ronon said and left Rodney with John as he went to the living room to make the call.

x - x - x

Evan Lorne was a local police officer and a loyal friend. The latter was the reason he immediately dropped whatever he was doing when Ronon called him and came to Rodney's apartment. Dex had been pretty mysterious about what was going on. He only told him not to bring anybody with him. Normally he would have refused taking such a risk, but given it was Ronon, a man he trusted with his life, he agreed.

When he arrived he noticed that McKay looked a little bit nervous and was fidgeting more than usually. He wondered if that was a bad sign.

"Spill the beans. Why am I here? Did you two do something illegal?"

"NO!" Rodney almost screamed. "I'm shocked you think about us this way. Like we ever would..."

"Tell me then. What is it?"

"We have to ask a favor of you, man." Ronon replied before Rodney could continue his rant.

"Okay... so, what is it?"

Ronon didn't answer and just went over to the bedroom door, opened it and motioned for Lorne to step in, which he did.

Inside a boy, looking feverish, lay in Rodney's bed under the blanket. Evan turned around with a questioning look on his face. "Who's that?"

"Well, we hoped you could help us find out." Rodney said.

"Where did you find him? And why does he look like he's about to kick the bucket?"

McKay told the whole story for the third time this day. When he finished Lorne thoughtfully looked back at John. "Did he have something with him? Like a wallet or something?"

"No, he only had a jacket."

"Can I see it?"

"Sure" Rodney went into the living room to get the jacket. When he came back he handed it over to Evan. He turned it in his hands until he saw the icon at the back.

"Okay, here we have the explanation." He said and showed them the symbol.

"What is it?"

"It's the emblem of a group of teenagers who caused a little bit of trouble all over the city recently. Things like shop lifting and vandalism, nothing too bad. We think they all are orphans or live on the streets."

"Wait, you mean this kid could be the punk who deflated my tires last night?" Rodney looked shocked. "Just once I decide to do something good to the people around me and I end up with nursing a criminal? See, _that's_ exactly why I'm not nice to people. Most of them..."

"McKay, knock it off." Ronon interrupted. He turned to face Lorne. "What are we going to do now?"

"For now, not much. He obviously isn't in the state to walk out of this door right now. Call me if he wakes up and is responsive again. I have to go back to the police department now if that's all."

"Yup, you can leave. Thanks buddy." Ronon clapped him on the shoulder.

Before Rodney could even think of something to say Evan was on his way back to work. Then he realized what Lorne had just told them.

"No way he stays here. What if he wakes up and tries to kill me?"

"McKay, how is he supposed to do that with his arm in a cast and fever?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to try that one out. He can't stay."

"You decided to help him, you can't go back now. Listen, I have to go now, too. Call me if he starts an attempt to strangle you or something."

"Oh, yeah, very funny, why don't you all just leave and let me deal with the sick criminal?"

But Ronon was already out the door.

He went back into the living room and started pacing for a while. His next shift wasn't due until tomorrow night, so he had nothing to do right now. He sighed and went over to one of his blackboards and started perfecting a calculation he had left unfinished.

x - x - x


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Oh god, it's alive! =D I had to remodel this chapter a few times because it just kept growing. You should see my notebook, it looks like it's been hit by a bomb. Thanks for the reviews so far, I hope you'll like this chapter!

x - x - x

Rodney must have fallen asleep over his calculations at some point. He had spent the rest of the day scribbling nubers over numbers and filling a huge amount of paper with them. Numbers helped him to get a clear head, helped him to escape into a world which was mach more... uncomplicated. Well, uncomplicated might be the wrong word since it was complicated enough to make most of the best mathematicians cry. But for Rodney it was a easier, even happier world.

Numbers didn't expect him to socialize. Sure, he was a talkative person, but he never managed to find the right words to say at the right time. That had been one of the many things which led to the break-up with Jennifer.

Numbers didn't complain if Rodney got snippy and offending. That's just how he was, that's just how he always had been. No need to say it was another reason why he and Dr. Keller went their separate ways.

But the most important reason for his love for math was the contrast to his work. Even if Rodney wasn't good with people, one thing he could handle even worse was death. And given his choice of career he often had to deal with it. Whenever he couldn't safe a man, woman, or even worse, a child, he came back to his apartment and found the needed distraction in mathematical problems.

x - x - x

McKay lay on his couch, hands folded on his belly, snoring lightly. The morning sun touched his face, a sunbeam emblazed his crooked lips almost like a spotlight. The mouth which usually never stopped talking lay silent now, his owner lost in a dream about cats and coffee.

A noise startled Rodney awake. His still clouded mind fought with the haze of sleep and the last images of his dream slowly disappeared. The metallic noise which caused him to wake was followed by footsteps. Rodney frowned. Then he remembered yesterday's events and bolted upright. Panicked he looked over to the bedroom door, but it was still closed.

Rodney tried to locate the sound of somebody walking around in his flat. It came from the hallway. He looked around, desperately searching for an item he could use to defend himself. Silently he cursed himself for not listening to Ronon when he told him for the thousandth time to always carry a knife.

His eyes fell on a white vase made of porcelain which had to make up for a weapon right now. He rose from the couch and slowly started approaching the doorway. When he reached the door there was only one step left that separated him from seeing the intruder. He raised the vase in his hands just like a baseball bat.

Rodney took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold into the hallway. He already started swinging his makeshift weapon when he realized the intruder was actually Ronon. He tried to bring his arms to a halt but Ronon already reacted to the sudden attack. With a skillfull move he fended off Rodney's arms and slammed his right shoulder into Rodney's sternum. The impact threw McKay against the wall behind him and the air was forced out of his lungs when he crashed into it.

He thought he felt every single bone in his back breaking. When Ronon realized he wasn't in actual danger, he let go of Rodney and held him upright by grasping his shoulders. Rodney felt like rolling up into a ball, lying down in a quiet corner of his apartment and crying - no, not crying, more like screaming and dying.

The pain in his chest and back was worse than everything he had ever experienced before. "Breathe, buddy." Ronon said in a deep rumble. Only now Rodney realized he had been whimpering. Despite the agonizing pain he drew a shuddering breath. After a while, when the pain had worn off, he looked up into Ronon's concerned face.

"What the fuck, man? Where you trying kill me?"

"Actually, yes, I was. You attacked me. Thought you were that kid."

"And I thought _you_ were that kid. Or some killer friend of his."

Ronon looked at him and started to laugh.

"Why are you laughing? This isn't remotely funny!"

"Yes it is. I see you took my advice and took a course in self-defense. Still a little bit slow though. It's all about the element of surprise. Next time scream like a madman when you pounce on me. Would be a little more shocking than you stomping around the corner, trying to be sneaky." He still chuckled. Rodney couldn't help but laugh, too.

"You okay now?" Ronon sobered up.

"Yeah, I think so. But my back probably won't agree with me tomorrow. I think I'll have to go and see my chiropractor."

"Sorry 'bout that, man."

"Anyway, how did you get in?" Rodney asked when he remembered that Ronon didn't possess a key to his flat.

"Let myself in." He answered and went to pick up his lock pick set from the floor where he had dropped it and put it back into his pocket. He acted like it was a totally normal thing to do.

"You know you're not allowed to enter my home without my consent, right? Maybe I should call Evan and make him arrest you or at least take away your little toys you have there." Again, he thought about buying an expensive alarm system. Or a dog. An overly aggressive one at that. But he more likely would end up being bitten himself.

"Okay, won't do it again." Ronon said with a mischievous smile and Rodney didn't believe him.

"So how's your patient doing?" Ronon changed the subject.

"I don't know, I just woke up to the sound of you breaking in."

"Well, then let's go and check." Ronon started advancing the bedroom.

The sight that awaited them when they opened the door wasn't really different from what the room had been like when they closed the door yesterday. The glass of water on the nightstand was still untouched and John lay there without so much as having shifted during the night. Rodney went over and checked his temperature.

"His fever is in remission." McKay informed Ronon. Then he sat down at the edge of the bed. "Do you think we should try to wake him up?"

"Probably a good idea, he has to drink something. And he might be able to tell us what happened."

"John." Rodney tentatively called his name. When the boy didn't react he tried again, this time lightly shaking his uninjured arm. "John."

This time the boy flinched at the sound of his name but still didn't wake up.

"Come on, open your eyes. Wake up." Rodney continued in a soothing tone.

Then John whispered something, so softly Rodney almost missed it.

"Stop it, please...don't... leave me alone..."

Ronon and Rodney looked at each other. Ronon shrugged his shoulders.

"Uhm, it's okay. Just open your eyes."

And then finally the boy seemed to react. He blinked once, twice because of the bright light which came through the windows.

His clouded eyes slowly panned the room. He didn't seem to realize he had company, so Rodney cleared his throat. As soon as the sound escaped his throat, John yanked his head around and looked at Ronon and Rodney, shock in his eyes. He tried to crawl backwards to the other side of the bed to get as far away from them as possible. He stopped his efforts when he felt a shooting pain in his right arm.

"Whoa, easy! It's okay, you're safe." Rodney tried to touch him in order to calm him, but it had quite the opposite effect. John only backed off closer to the edge.

"Where am I?" His voice was raspy because of his dry throat. He coughed and then held his head. "Ow."

"You're at my place. Do you remember me?"

"You were at the hospital. A doctor, right?"

"Yeah. Do you need anything? Painkillers maybe?"

John nodded. Ronon went off to bring the pills from the bathroom cabinet.

"Does he have to be here? He's huge."

"He helped me to patch you up, you should be thankful. And besides that, he wouldn't harm a fly."

Ronon returned and John swallowed the pill with the water from the nightstand. McKay gave him the antibiotics to take right after the pain reliever. He seemed to have relaxed a little bit, so Rodney decided to start a conversation.

"So, your name is John, right?"

"Yeah." Rodney waited for John to continue talking, maybe tell his last name, but he remained silent.

"So... how old are you? 17?"

John shot him an angry glare. "19."

Rodney wasn't surprised the teenager reacted like that. His lean build must have often fooled people and this probably wasn't the first time someone guessed that he was younger than he actually was. They fell silent again. Suddenly John startled, panic in his eyes.

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Tell whom? And what?" Rodney asked confused.

"Where I am. If he finds me, he'll do it again!"

"Do _what_ again? And who are you talking about?"

But John didn't answer, he looked at Ronon.

"You aren't related to him, are you?"

"Depends on who you're talking about." He looked just as confused as Rodney.

"His name is... uhm... Ford, I don't know his first name. They all just call him Ford."

"So this guy, Ford, did he hurt you?" Ronon asked.

"Yes... I mean, no... I don't think he wanted to... it just... happened."

"Wait, I'm not following. So he hurt you but he didn't want to? That doesn't make any sense."

"He wanted money. I didn't have more than five dollars, so he got angry. He didn't mean to break my arm. He lost his temper, it's the stuff that he takes, makes him moody." There was a pause in which nobody of them spoke. Then John broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm tired now, can I sleep?"

Rodney furrowed his brow but nodded. "Okay. Sleep now, you can tell us the rest later. Call me if you need anything."

John settled back into the middle of the bed and lay back to sleep. Ronon and Rodney retreated into the living room.

"What the hell was that?" Ronon asked when they had both taken a seat on the couch.

"I don't know." Rodney sighed. "Either he's telling the truth and is scared of whoever this Ford might be or he's playing with us."

"We should go and see Lorne. He wanted to know if the kid woke up and started talking."

"Yes, that's probably a good idea. Maybe he can find out what this is all about."

x - x - x

They drove Ronon's pickup down to the police department. When they arrived, Officer Parrish welcomed them.

"Hey Ronon, hey Rodney, long time no see!"

"Hello Parrish. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. I suppose you want to see Officer Lorne?"

They both nodded.

"You're lucky it was his turn for desk duty today. You know where his office is."

Ronon and Rodney went down the hallway to Lorne's office and greeted every passing officer with a nod. They were regulars here and everybody knew them. The three of them had been friends since high school and they were still close. Rodney often wondered why Evan and Rodney got along with him so well.

Ronon knocked on Lorne's door but didn't wait for the permission to enter. Evan looked up from his paperwork and smiled when he saw them.

"Hey, any news from your mysterious patient?"

"Yup, that's why we're here." Ronon said. "We woke him this morning and he told us who injured him. A guy named Ford, he wanted money and was on drugs." He informed the prying policeman.

"Ford? As in Aiden Ford?"

"Said he didn't know his first name."

"Well, it would perfectly fit him."

"Who is this Ford guy?" Rodney asked.

"He's a 30 year old drug dealer and addict. Known for his violence against customers who couldn't pay their debts. Caused a few broken bones out there, but he's hard to catch."

Lorne's words made Rodney sick to his stomach. He thought another kid has done this to John, but it had never occurred to him that it could have been a man at the same age as himself. And then another thought crossed his mind. Was John addicted to illegal substances and owed this dealer money?

While Rodney's mind had been wandering, Lorne had moved over to a file cabinet and pulled out a file. He opened it and spread out pictures of Ford in front of them. It must have been photos from an undercover operation because the angle and quality of the shots wasn't the best. As soon as he looked at them it became clear to Rodney.

"He's black!" He exclaimed.

"Well, obviously." Lorne said.

"That's the reason he was scared of Ronon this morning. He thought he was caught by one of Ford's henchmen because of Ronon's darker complexion!"

"If he really owes him money he has every reason to be afraid. I'd say we go back to you apartment and I try to talk to him. That might be a unique chance to get on Ford's tracks."

x - x - x

But when the three of them returned, John was nowhere to be found. They searched every room, but he was gone. Then Lorne found a letter and Rodney's wallet on the table in the living room.

"He left a note." He said and handed it over to Rodney.

_Hey._

_I'm sorry I took your money and left, but I have to keep moving. Don't try to look for me, I'll leave the city. I don't want you to be in danger because you helped me, so please don't ask for me on the streets. He might try to harm you, too._

_Thank you for all you've done. Take care._

_John_

Rodney looked up from the note in his hands. Evan and Ronon could tell that whatever was written on that paper, it must have been something bad.

"He left the city." He quietly said. He didn't know why he felt like someone had just punched him in the guts. He didn't really know this boy, but he knew that somehow, even if that was the most irrational thing he had ever felt, he cared for him. And now John was out there somewhere, on a bus to wherever and Ford looking for him, maybe even trying to kill him. Lorne had taken the note out of his hand and read it. He looked at Rodney.

"Do you want me to go after him?"

Rodney shook his head.

x - x - x

After everybody had left, the thoughts in Rodney's head wouldn't stop racing. Confused and angry he threw himself into his calculations again. He kept going until it was dark and he was too exhausted to make it into the bedroom, so he crashed on the couch. John had managed to do that to him two nights in a row. That boy had really gotten under his skin.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I'm sorry it took me so long to get this up. I got pretty much sidetracked by too many good movies at the cinema, school, my new job and my damn hurting wrist.

Warnings: Slashy tones in this one (no sex though) aaaand alcohol and drug use. Don't like, don't read.

x - x - x

Rodney had never seen John again. Sometimes he remembered and wondered if he should have gone after him. Maybe John didn't even live anymore, which was most likely if Ford found him.

x - x - x

10 years had gone by and it was Rodney's 40th birthday. His plan was to stay in bed, hide under the covers and wait for this dreadful day to pass. He was officially old now. Like _really_ old. From now on everything would go downhill rapidly. First his body would start to deteriorate and eventually his brilliant mind would be fading, too. And Rodney was so not looking forward to that.

Jeannie, his sister, usually had other plans for his birthday. She was a party animal, never missing an occasion to throw a bash. With great effort he had convinced her that a surprise party would be a really _bad _idea and she assured him that there wouldn't be any colleagues and friends with party hats appearing from behind the sofa when he came home in the evening. But he wasn't sure if he could really trust her. That's why he activated his high-tech alarm system when he left for his shift at the ER.

Rodney still worked at the same hospital alongside Zelenka and Kavanagh. Kavanagh was the same annoying pain in the ass he had ever been and Radek was... well, Radek. Not the best doctor in the world, but Rodney couldn't complain. So he convinced himself to leave his bed and self-pity behind and got ready for work.

x - x - x

After his shift (2 broken legs, a gastric lavage, an old lady with mysterious abdominal pain and a child who had swallowed a coin and whose parents insisted that he needed surgery to prevent a slow and painful death) he went home, showered, changed into an old t-shirt and pyjama pants, fell into bed and was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He woke up when his phone started ringing. Groaning he took a look at his alarm clock on the nightstand, it was only 8 pm. He ignored the ringing and let out a relieved sigh when it finally stopped. Only to begin again two minutes later. Rodney growled but swung his legs out of bed and padded into the living room to pick up the phone.

"What?" He almost screamed into the receiver.

"Wow, Happy Birthday Mr. Grouchy Pants." He heard his sister's voice and knew she was smiling. "What took you so long to pick up?"

"I was sleeping."

"Sleeping? On a Friday at 8 pm? A Friday that happens to be your birthday? That's kinda sad, Meredith."

He made face when she used his hated name.

"Well, yeah, _some_ of us actually had to work today, so I'm tired. And I'm old now, in case you forgot."

"I bet caring for child is just as exhausting as patching up people at the ER." She ignored Rodney's snort at that. "But I can't accept that you waste this opportunity. So dress up as sexy as possible, we're going out tonight."

"Wait, wha..." But Jeannie had already hung up.

Rodney stared at the phone in disbelief. How did this woman manage to control him on every single one of his birthdays? Last year she made him go to Disney World, since he had never been there before, and it had been disastrous. He still had nightmares of screaming children and Mickey and Goofy chasing him.

Rodney let out a frustrated sigh and went back into the bedroom to search his closet for something "sexy". If he had learned one thing in the past, it was that you better listen if Jeannie Miller gives orders. She must have some kind of evil superpower or something in that direction because she always gets what she wants.

Rodney stood in front of his opened dresser. "Something sexy..." He muttered to himself. He didn't own clothes anybody would consider sexy. He shrugged and went for an orange fleece pullover, his favourite piece of clothing. Thee doorbell rang and he went to let Jeannie in.

When he opened the door her eyes widened.

"Oh. My. God. Don't tell me that is what you're going to wear." She rushed past him into the flat.

"What's wrong with it? It's very comfortable. I like it." He sensed that this evening wouldn't be an easy one.

"You mean besides the fact that the color makes my eyes bleed? I bet I can find you something more appealing, even in that closet of yours." And with that she stomped right into the bedroom.

She rummaged through everything twice until she seemed to be content with what she had found.

"There you go. Put that on." She handed him a black t-shirt and a grey pair of jeans Rodney hadn't seen in years.

"There's no way this is going to fit." He warned her.

"Oh, trust me, it'll fit perfectly. You're not _that_ fat. Now change."

He looked at the clothes in his hands and back at her.

"Could you... uhm..." He gestured towards the door. Jeannie rolled her eyes.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before." She said, but went for the door.

"Not since I was three years old." Rodney murmured and started to undress.

x - x - x

The bedroom door opened but nobody stepped through. Jeannie sat on the couch, waiting for Rodney to come out already.

"Do I have to come and drag you outta there?"

Rodney poked his head through the door.

"It's awful. I can't go out like that."

"Just come here and let me see."

Rodney rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, but obeyed.

Jeannie had to blink at what she saw in front of her. Rodney's grey jeans fit like a second skin and accentuated his ass perfectly (and also his crotch, but Jeannie would never tell Rodney), the black shirt clung to Rodney's chest (but in a good way) and made him look like he spent a great amount of his spare time at the gym, which he didn't. As disturbing as this might be, she had to admit that her brother looked... hot.

"Oh God, so perfect. You're totally gonna get laid tonight." She said, rounding Rodney to get a good sight of his back.

"I _what_?" Rodney asked in a shocked tone. Since when did he have to discuss his sex life (or lack thereof) with his sister?

"I don't want to get laid. You know I'm not the type for one night stands, I'm looking for a decent girl..."

"... or boy..." Jeannie interrupted.

"Oh, there we go again. That was _one_ time on med school and I'm starting to believe it was a _huge_ mistake. But that was 20 years ago, don't you think it's time to bury it?"

Jeannie laughed. "Don't you remember last New Year's Eve? When you where drunk and told me about a little crush you had on one of Evan's colleagues? A very male one at that. Didn't sound like you were entirely straight right then. I Don't know why you're trying to deny it. It's the 21st century Rodney, being gay is no big deal anymore."

"Bisexual. I'm not gay, I really like women."

"Bisexual it is then. Whatever makes you happy. Now grab your wallet, it's time to shake that great ass of yours."

"Jeannie!" Rodney squeaked and blushed.

Jeannie just snickered and turned to leave the apartment.

x - x - x

When they arrived at the club Jeannie had chosen they had to stand in line to get in. To kill the time waiting they chatted about Jeannie's everyday life and Rodney's work. When Rodney mentioned something about a complicated surgery he had performed on a little boy, the man standing in front of them turned around, gave him the once over and cracked a blinding smile. Rodney could have sworn he wore eyeliner.

Confused he looked away and watched the other people going in and out of the club. Most of them were male, some of them had glitter all over their...

"Oh no, tell me you didn't take me to a gay club." Rodney practically yelled at Jeannie. The people around them stared at him, so Rodney reduced his voice to an angry whisper, but still audible for people in close proximity.

"You're unbelievable. I just told you, _I am not gay_."

The man in front of them turned around again.

"You sure? I could have sworn, the way you dress makes it pretty obvious. By the way, nice package you have there, it would be a shame waisting it for the ladies." He said, pointing at Rodney's crotch. Rodney blushed and tried to cover the area with his hands.

"Relax Rodney, they're not going to rape you. Just for once let go and have a good time, will you do that for me?" She looked at him, almost pleadingly.

"Fine. But that's the last time you get to surprise me on my birthday."

Meanwhile they had advanced the bouncer.

"It's your birthday? Congratulations man, you and your arm candy get in for free then." He said and tried to drape a pink feather boa around Rodney's neck, but stopped when he saw his killing glance.

"Enjoy your night." He said with a wink at Rodney and turned to muster the next man in the line. Rodney just groaned and stepped into the club.

It was loud and dark but the crowd on the dance floor seemed to have a good time. When Rodney entered, several young men at the entry smiled at him. Rodney wished for the ground to open and swallow him immediately. Jeannie waved at someone at the edge of the dance floor.

"That's my hairdresser over there, wait for me here, I'm just going to say hi."

Rodney wanted to complain but she was already gone. He looked around. Most of the men in this club were around the age of 30, almost all of them dressed similar to Rodney, except for a few on the dance floor who had either taken their shirts of due to the heat or didn't even put one on when they came here.

He was distracted from his train of thoughts by a good-looking man, something around his own age.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Uhm, no thanks... I... I don't drink." Rodney stammered and fled through a group of people to his right. He glanced over to Jeannie, who was still engaged in a conversation, and decided to sit down at the bar. The barkeeper came over and he ordered a beer, praying that the guy from earlier wouldn't come by and discover his lie. He sat there in silence, feeling the beat of the music, engrossed in his thoughts, when someone stepped next to him. He startled and was ready to get up and flee again, but the young man only ordered a beer and sat down, completely ignoring him. So Rodney turned back to finish his beer.

After a few minutes he glanced sideways, scrutinizing the man next to him. He had to admit he was blessed with extremely attractive features, even with his strange pointed ears, his black tousled hair... There was something familiar about him. Then it hit Rodney.

"John?"

The man turned his head to look at him, eyes slightly glazed.

"Yes?"

"Oh my God, it's really you!"

"Excuse me, do I know you?" He slurred mildly, but still had that southern drawl Rodney remembered even after all these years.

"Uhm... I... you... well, it doesn't matter. My name is Rodney, how are you?"

" 's nice to meet you, Rodney. Fine, I guess." He shrugged and ordered another beer. This time he didn't sit facing the bar but staring at Rodney. He felt the heat creeping up his face and something turn in his guts under John's intense gaze. The younger man finished his second beer remarkably quick and got up from the bar stool, swaying lightly. He turned to look at Rodney.

"You wanna dance?"

Rodney opened his mouth to refuse politely but then he reconsidered. He had spent all these years wondering about John's fate, he wouldn't let the opportunity to get answers pass that easily.

"Yes, I'd love to." He followed John onto the dance floor.

It turned out that John was a great dancer, he knew how to move his hips just right and used his arms to underline his fluid motions. When the DJ put on a slower, more sensual track, John came up right behind Rodney and plastered himself against his back. Rodney could feel his warmth seeping through the two layers of their clothes and again there was a movement in his guts. John started to move his pelvis ins slow circles, his hands on Rodney's hips forcing him to mimic the motion.

"What are you doing?" Rodney squeaked.

"Dancing. With you." John whispered against his ear and buried his face in Rodney's neck, his breath moist against Rodney's skin. Suddenly Rodney became aware of John's arousal pressed against his ass and panicked. He tried to get away to leave the dance floor, maybe even leave the club, but John held him even tighter when he tried to escape. The men around them had stopped dancing and watched them now, some of them almost drooling, looking at them like they saw a delicious steak right in front of them.

Rodney realized what they must look like and his face turned into a darker shade of red, if that was even possible. He thanked God when the song ended and John loosened his grip.

"Going to the bathroom. Stay here." He mumbled and rushed away. Rodney stood there like he had been struck by lightning before realizing that everybody around him had started dancing again. He left the dance floor and was greeted by an applauding Jeannie.

"Told you, you look hot. Where did you learn to dance like that? And where's your handsome stud? You should totally take him home tonight."

"That was odd." Was all Rodney had to say.

"What was odd? The fact that he made you dance or the fact that it looked like foreplay?"

"No, the way he behaved. I know him... well, not exactly _know_ him, but I've met him before and he's just not extroverted enough to do something like that."

"He's just having a good time. And you should have a good time, too, so go and grab him!" She giggled and went off to dance with her friend. Rodney thought about her words and decided to go and check on John.

When he entered the men's room John wasn't at the urinals and both stalls were occupied. From the left one came bawdy noises and he hoped that John wasn't one of the moaning voices. He banged on the door of the right one but no one answered. After five minutes with nothing but increasing noises from the left stall Rodney took a coin from his wallet and opened the lock of the stall.

"I'm coming in!" He called out but again, nothing came back.

He slowly pushed the door open until it was blocked by something lying on the floor. He poked his head through the crack. The sight that awaited him made him gasp. John sat next to the bowl, legs stretched out in front of him glaze glassy, staring straight ahead at the wall. A lighter, a spoon, an empty piece of aluminum foil and a syringe lay on the toilet lid.

John looked up at him and smiled. "Hey there."

He sounded drunk but Rodney knew from what he saw that it was more than that. He pushed John's legs aside and stepped in. Without listening to John's half-hearted protest he gathered the set and dumped it into the small trash can next to the toilet.

"You don't need that anymore. Come on, we're gonna get you outta here." He said and tried to help John to get up. When he succeeded John fell forward and pinned him against the wall.

"Take me home and I'm gonna make you feel so good..." John mumbled into Rodney's shoulder. He pushed him away and started dragging him out of the restroom.

"I'm not going to do anything with you unless you are clean." He said but John didn't seem to listen.

On their way to the exit of the club they passed Jeannie, who gave them two thumbs up. Rodney just shook his head, he would explain the situation to her later, but right now he had to focus on the task at hand and that was getting John out of there as quickly as possible, because he was so high that he tried to undress while walking through a night club full of people.

Outside Rodney hailed a taxi and told the driver his address. He and John shared the back seat and John made several attempts to kiss Rodney, but he effectively turned his head every time. He wouldn't take advantage of John in this condition, even if he couldn't deny that he felt somewhat attracted to this man. Eventually John stopped the assaults and leaned back his head, his breathing evening out.

x - x - x

When Rodney had managed to drag a half conscious John up the stairs and into his flat, he took off his jeans and put him into his bed. He stood there, unsure if he should stay on the couch like the last time he had taken John in. Right then John opened his eyes a crack.

"Get in here. 'n take your clothes of..."

Rodney shook his head. Whatever drug John was using, it definitely wasn't harmless. Seeing that John was fast asleep again he got under the covers at the other side of the bed, fully clothed.

He lay awake for a while and wondered what he had gotten himself into this time while listening to John's even breathing. He decided to wait for the morning to come and closed his eyes, slowly drifting into sleep.

x - x - x

TBC... tell me what you think =)


End file.
